With Love
by scorpsifer
Summary: ONE SHOT. There is truth in everything; regardless if one chooses to believe in it or not. A scrawled number in an old notebook wasn't truth, neither were his best friend's subtle hints of her affections for him. What happens when someone is so caught up on the fantasy, he forgets the truth of reality? AU.


**This was originally written for an assignment in one of my college courses. Just some dabble that I thought was worth sharing. Hope you enjoy it! Inspired by many but mostly Shakespeare's play, _A Midsummer Night's Dream._**

**Disclaimer: **_Not mine. All Stephanie's._

* * *

A pair of lips was in the top right hand corner of one of the young man's rented text books.

They were full and sheer pink and rounded; on page 146 of a history biography on Evangelicalism. His finger lightly traced the dried stain, knowing it was old.

They were accompanied with a phone number. An area code not of the area he lived in but perhaps a town over?

Edward Cullen was looking for a distraction; a distraction from his reading, a distraction from his classes, a distraction from life. He found one.

Edward's fingers dialed out the number in his cell phone with curiosity. Each number zinged underneath his fingertips, etching out every possibility that could approach.

He left a one sentence message and hit _Send._

_I found your lips._

* * *

Every morning at 10:50, Edward rode the Met for 16 blocks, bought a coffee at the local deli at the end of the street, and entered his English course at 11:30.

The girl with the soft gray dress and black panty hose sat knees crossed as she always did in the far corner next to the window. Once she noticed Edward's arrival, she smiled up at him.

She wasn't necessarily beautiful or unique looking but more of a simple creature with large brown eyes that cradled you. Her soft hair was long and always down around her face; curling innocently at the tips. A mouth like sugar or candy, you could never really decide but spoke sweet words of encouragement. Always. Always black panty hose; always rounded black heels no higher than 4 inches. Slim yet curvy near her middle, long and Bambi-like legs, and a fingers riddled with nerves.

"Hey," the greeting rolled off the tongue so fluidly; the familiarity in her body language was present as she moved further aside to leave Edward room next to her seat.

He sat down with ease and lowered his messenger bag from his shoulder.

She looked over at him again under her lashes, too preoccupied with her jittery fingers to acknowledge the manila envelope falling off her lap. She caught it in time before sliding down her knees.

"Nervous?" Edward asked.

"A little."

"You'll do fine; and if not, there are plenty of other internships in this city you can apply for."

She shook her head, strands of hair falling out from behind her ear. "Not like this one; Margery Baxter is the only one taking on 4th years without a degree. She's my only option until I graduate."

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip; another nervous habit.

"Bella, relax."

As the train slowed, a trundle of people loaded on, crowding the bus. They shimmied and weaved through the tress, bumping and grinding against Edward's arm. He tucked himself inwardly to avoid getting elbowed. Bella and Edward were used to this; they went through it every morning. Her natural gravitation towards Edward anyway was something she had done since he met her. But with the sway of the train, the two students swayed along with it.

She leaned into Edward now, rocking a bit on her seat.

"I need to tell you something," he told her, watching as her face turned to his. Her lips parted.

"What?"

"It's weird, and I don't know how to say it."

She paced herself asking him again what it was that he was so anxious about.

"I found something in my book."

"What book?"

"I rented one of my books from that old bookstore downtown and," Edward pulled it out of his messenger bag, flipped through the worn pages, "I found something in it."

"Money?" Her sense of practicality was one of the very reasons why they had hit if off from the very beginning. Edward liked her dry sense of humor. She arched an eyebrow at him, craning her head to look over at the book.

He shook his head but didn't answer, seeing as how it would be better to explain if he showed what he had found instead.

Page 146 was dog tagged with purpose so he could find it again. Edward flipped to it now and handed her the book.

Bella held the book out in front of her, examining the pair of glossy lips at the corner of the book. Her face was expressionless until he couldn't see at all; her hair acting as curtains around her cheeks.

"A girl kissed your rented book?"

"A girl who rented the book before me, I would assume," he shrugged.

Bella sighed, curling her fingers behind her ear with a slight humor to her eyes.

She handed him the book back. "Did you call the number?"

"No."

"Plan on it?"

"I don't know."

Edward didn't tell her that he texted the number and he wasn't sure if he was going to. It was an odd feeling of secrecy but he didn't want to share that knowledge with Bella; it was odd because he usually _did_ share everything with Bella.

"Whatever; it was probably some dumb freshman trying obviously way too hard." Her arms crossed over her chest, her manila envelope nearly falling off her lap again. Edward caught it for her and tucked it next to her thigh.

Bella muttered a 'thanks' but nothing else. He didn't recognize the odd attitude from her but he didn't pay much attention.

They rode the train until it was their stop to get off.

Bella walked beside her friend to the deli, the clatter of her heels in tow as usual. She was shorter than Edward so she was always a step behind him. They stopped outside the deli entrance.

"Good luck with the interview."

She smiled up at him, the sun hitting the left side of her face. "Thanks. Good luck with English Literature."

"Thanks."

Bella's actions slowed, tucking the large envelope under her arm. "Edward," she caught his attention.

"Yeah?"

"What are you going to do about the… number?"

He shrugged at her. Her eyes flickered to Edward's hip where his phone resided in the pocket.

"You should take it back to the library and ask for a new book."

"Why?"

"… I don't know. You just should."

"It's just a lipstick stain, Bella."

Her mouth twisted, the gray fabric of her dress altering the subtle features on her face. Her large doe eyes glanced at the ground quickly before reaching back up to Edward's face where she proceeded to give him a forced smile.

"See you later."

Edward's best friend then walked off as his phone vibrated against his hip.

He unlocked the screen and found that he had one new text message.

_Good. Now it's time to find me._

An address, which would ultimately lead him to the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center, followed.

* * *

Bella called him with the exciting news that the interview went well.

He could picture her curled up on her couch in her Hersey Park t-shirt and pillow clutched to her stomach as she told him this over the phone.

She didn't ask him about the lips in the book and Edward didn't tell her about the text message. He wished her a goodnight and locked the front door behind him as he left his apartment.

* * *

He had received another text message later that night, instructing him to go to the Opera House where he would find a poster on an easel displayed next to the fountain; it would be advertising a new show. _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ would be playing one Friday from now.

_Buy a ticket._

Edward read the text over and over again, thinking to himself of how silly he must have been.

The fountain continued to gush of water as the city night life walked and talked among themselves in the night. He stood there alone, gazing at the poster with a certain curiosity he couldn't fathom.

He stood there for quite some time until a nearby dog barking brought himself back to reality. He went back home on a sore stomach of wonder and a lack fulfillment until he logged onto his computer and bought a ticket for the 9 o'clock showing of _A Midsummer Night's Dream._

* * *

Same time, same train, same route, same girl, different skirt.

She wore a soft black pencil skirt along with a white button down tucked in at her waist. This was not of her fancier style choices she wore to her classes but rather her waitress uniform she wore every other day when she had to go into work.

"Did I mention how much I hate not having time to change out of these clothes before my 2:30 class starts?"

"Only about a hundred times."

Bella's hair was pulled back into a thick pony tail. She hated that too but complied with the rest of her uniform because it was her job to. Edward noticed a bit of artificial coloring to her cheeks and realized she was wearing makeup.

"Are you wearing blusher?" he asked, only knowing the term because of his younger sister who so dazzlingly quizzed him when they were teenagers; longest summer of Edward's life was the one of being tortured by his sister while he suffered a broken leg from a skateboarding injury.

Bella's real blush highlighted her cheekbones tenderly as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm surprised you even know what that is," she mumbled, "And yes. It's for work."

Knowing Bella had never worn makeup a day in her life, even for work, was puzzling but Edward didn't nudge her on the topic. He offered a teasing smile before rolling his eyes at her annoyed stature.

They got off at the same stop and the girl followed the boy to the deli entrance.

"Are you doing anything Friday?" she asked him, pulling Edward's attention away from his messenger bag.

Somewhat distracted, he answered 'no' without thinking.

"Well," Bella started, "There's this party my friend is throwing and invited me but I won't know anyone there; there are going to be a bunch of CTV majors… I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?"

He shifted his gaze to her petite structure, her mouth pressing in on itself.

He nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Wicked. It's gonna be at the bar where Lauren had celebrated her birthday last year."

"Okay."

They left it off as that and Bella walked away from him, with more of her real blush rising on her cheeks.

* * *

Edward had only ever been to the Metropolitan Opera House once. He was seven and his father had taken his mother as an anniversary gift. But they couldn't find a babysitter on that short notice and so they took Edward along.

They saw _The_ _Nutcracker_ because it was December and Christmas elated the air with its fast approach.

He loved the show and was in awe the whole night. It was one of the last memories Edward had of his parents when they were actually happy.

He stood there now, in front of the large Opera house and waited. He wasn't exactly sure what he was waiting for; perhaps another message on his phone?

Dazed and irrational, Edward had known what he was doing was silly. Listening to random text messages, telling him to go places and do things and he had no motivation as to why he was doing them. Other than the fact that something deep in his core was telling him to do so. Something brought him here that night.

And he wasn't sure what it had him doing.

Edward thought about waiting outside only until the show was about to begin so he hurried inside.

He took his seat in the fair middle and cautiously waited until the lights darkened.

The show was around 4 hours; a long, well thought out production but quite puzzling for the young man. He rose out of his seat, wanting to stretch his legs but also contemplate over the fact that he was still not sure why he had been here.

He was right in waiting until almost everyone was ushered out before his phone vibrated in his pocket.

_Look under seat K109._

Edward turned around and looked upon the sea of seats; he had been seated in the far back, nowhere near K. But with a tentative step, he made his way down the aisles until he came upon row K.

He slipped between the seats, trying not to look suspicious as he was still not the only guest still left in the opera house.

There was nothing special about seat K109; it looked the same as the rest, a red folded chair. But he looked closely, crouching down and curling his fingers around a folded piece of paper taped to the chair.

Edward held it in his hands, looked around before taking the very seat before him. Unfolding the paper, his eyes glazed over it slowly.

"_Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,_

_And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."_

"_I'll follow thee and make a heaven out of hell, _

_To die by your hand which I love so well."_

_If you are reading this then you have watched my favorite play. I was watching it too, though you may have not seen me. You never would have; because love does not look with the eyes._

_Come find me again at Lincoln Center; when the moon is full and the night is hot, come find me under the water fountain. _

_You found me in my book._

_You found me at my play._

_Will you find me this next day?_

_WITH LOVE,_

_ Kate._

Edward stared blankly at the paper. He didn't know what to think of it. But he didn't have time either because in that moment, he was being ushered out of his seat. The play was over. Time to go home.

* * *

Bella had been sitting alone on the stoop of the old bar. Noise and commotion had been in an uproar inside but with the door closed, she could only hear the sounds of cars driving by. She sat and waited and waited.

* * *

Edward heard a knock at his door but it took him till the fifth knock to take him out his trance. He folded the paper closed, tucked it in his shirt pocket, and went to the front door.

Bella stood before him with a solemn expression, and then he remembered.

"I sat there and waited. I waited for an hour and you never showed up."

"Shit, Bella, I'm sorry. I totally forgot," Edward apologized, opening the door wider as a silent invitation for Bella to come inside.

She hesitated before walking in.

"I asked you yesterday. You forgot since yesterday?"

She stood in front of him in slimming black jeans and a t shirt, her rounded black heels bringing her up to his shoulder. She looked nice.

"I'm sorry. Really, I forgot because I was… preoccupied." He thought about the paper in his shirt pocket.

"Preoccupied with what?" Bella's anger rose in her throat, her crossed arms tightened around her chest.

And then Edward gave up and told her everything.

* * *

Bella nursed a beer on his couch, tucking her legs underneath herself. She played with the rim of the bottle, biting at her lip. Bella was confused. This emotion was alien to her because she had never been confused about anything. Bella was the put together girl, had everything planned out, never went into something without knowing the end result. But as she looked to her best friend, she truly didn't know what to think. Other than that he was a complete moron.

"So, you've been doing what this person says?"

"Well, so far, yes."

"And you just automatically assume that this… _Kate_ is a lonely, lost soul who's also a romantic poetic?"

Edward sniffled. "Well, I don't think it's a creepy, 40 year old man writing me these notes and going to see _A Midsummer Night's Dream _at Lincoln center," he complied, "And it's written in girl handwriting." He noted the simple, yet clean and feminine handwriting.

Bella set her beer on the coffee table. "Edward, this is silly. And dangerous. You can't trust this person. Think about what you are doing; you're following directions from some number you randomly found in your history book."

Taking her bottle from the table, he brought it to his lips and took a sip. Bella didn't ask for it back and so he finished it off in the silence. Edward had thought about it and it _didn't_ make sense but he couldn't stop from feeling just a bit curious. His best friend sat across from him, playing with her hands as she always did but didn't say a word.

"She wants me to go to Lincoln center again, two nights from now when the moon is full. She said to 'come and find her'."

Bella took the piece of paper from his hands, scanning it over and over again before lowering it from her face. Her eyes darted from Edward to the paper, until she closed them completely and sighed.

"Edward, you can't go," she finally said, running her fingers through her hair. It bounced off her shoulders and down her back.

"I don't know, aren't _you_ at least the tiniest bit curious?"

"No!" she stated firmly, "And you shouldn't be either. This is weird and I don't feel comfortable with you going." Bella stood up then and grabbed her coat that she had tossed over the chair earlier. As she slipped it on, she turned back to him still sitting on the couch.

"Edward, please don't go, okay?" her voice went soft, her eyes pleading with him.

Edward stood up and went to her, casually running his eyes over her face.

"Why do you care so much?"

In that moment, he knew his words had hurt her.

She was taken aback instantly. "Why wouldn't I care? You're… important to me."

Green to brown, they held each others gaze fiercely until Bella turned and headed for the door.

"Do whatever you want, Edward. I'm not your babysitter."

And then she left.

* * *

Over the next few days, Bella had received a call saying she got the internship.

With all the excitement she could accept, she called Edward to tell him.

He said he would stop by her apartment later that night to celebrate.

But when that night rolled around, Bella waited for something that was never going to come.

Tears prodding at her tear ducks, she curled up on her couch and waited just a bit more.

* * *

The moon was at its fullest when Edward arrived at Lincoln center.

The streets were busy as they usually were but only he was at the fountain that night. And he was sure that he interpreted the mysterious letter correctly but he wasn't so sure if the mysterious girl was going to show her face tonight.

Maybe he would just get another letter.

He sat on the edge of the fountain, gazing upon the pedestrians; thinking every so often that maybe it was _her_.

For the life of him, Edward couldn't understand why he had been so intrigued. Maybe it was his commonplace life that he had so wanted to step out of, or maybe his lack of adventure. Maybe a strong sense of finality hit him at every corner of his life and he wanted something fresh and new and exciting.

But his admiration for _Kate_ was more overwhelming than he wanted to admit.

His phone vibrated then.

_"The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact."_

_ You found me again tonight._

_ But will you chase me?_

_ WITH LOVE,_

_ Kate._

Yet another quote from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ and a small note, following it was another address with another time.

* * *

Edward arrived at Bella's apartment around midnight, knowing of his wrong doing. He was well aware of his late appearance and didn't know how to apologize after he had stood her up twice.

Bella ended up being on the roof of her apartment, sitting on a lone lawn chair eating ice cream from a small carton. She had her feet propped up on the edge, looking out over the other buildings that were blocking an amazing view she would have had, if not for them being there.

"By all means, grab a chair."

But Edward didn't, he stood in front of her with his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry."

Bella's spoon clattered in her now empty container, breathing a deep and heavy sigh.

"Are you really, though?" Sarcasm dripped from her tongue like poison.

"Yes."

"Prove it."

Edward removed a thin candy bar from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

"A chocolate bar?" Her slight New York accent peeked through.

She didn't take it from him; leaving Edward's stretched out arm lingering until he had no other option than to pull it back.

"A _Mars Bar_," Edward said quietly, referencing to the old chocolate bar that stores generally didn't sell anymore. It was one of Bella's favorites.

Her face softened; removing her feet from their propped up position down to the ground. She then reached out and took the bar from him.

"Thank you," her voice broke.

He embraced her, whispering 'Congratulations' into her hair before releasing her. But Bella knew better and eyed him skeptically.

"You went, didn't you? That's why you were late. You went to Lincoln center."

Edward nodded.

"And?" Bella questioned.

"I found another note."

"Another note." Bella stared down at the chocolate bar for the length of a heartbeat. She then pushed passed him and headed back to her apartment downstairs.

"You know, there are other people in your life, _real_ people, who are willing to give you more than just a note."

And then she slammed the door.

* * *

August became September. Then September became the dead of October, forcing people to bring out heavy sweaters, scarves, and pumpkin spice lattes.

Bella accompanied Edward on the Met, as she did every day for the past three and a half years.

Every day she would find her seat next to the window and every day she would see Edward make his way onto the train and take his seat next to hers. They had done this ever since the first day of college when they were both new to New York and didn't know how to work the train station.

And even now, Edward took his seat next to hers like he did so many times before but a barrier had been built around himself this time. Over the past couple of months, Edward had been acting different. Following the letters of this mysterious girl had put him into the ultimate tailspin.

Every week it would be a new letter at a new location with yet another, new quote from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. And Edward would follow.

He hadn't told Bella that he kept following the instructions of the mysterious _Kate_ only because he knew that Bella wouldn't have liked it. He was smart in doing so, even though Bella had been fairly busy with her waitress job, her college courses and her new internship. He rarely saw Bella other than in the mornings at 10:50.

It was mid October, almost a month after Bella's recent birthday.

Every year Edward and Bella had gone out for her birthday; the MET was one of her favorite places to go. Every October, the MET would put on an event with live music and wine tasting and sorts of things such as that to set off the feeling of autumn. It was the perfect birthday present and it was the only thing Bella ever wanted, every year.

But it was this year that had been so different from the last because this year, _Kate_ had Edward leading him to another letter, the same night at the MET event.

And it was this year that Edward found Bella in a small black dress, pounding at the door of his apartment in tears.

Edward had just been walking back from location in which he received a letter. He walked down his street, finding Bella knocking at his door in not her 4 inch heels, but new 5 inch heels.

"Bella?" he said from the sidewalk.

She turned around, looking somewhat surprised as she thought Edward had been inside his apartment. But tears streamed down her face and embedded themselves on her dress as she declined from the stairs to the side walk where Edward stood.

And then, once again, he remembered.

"You did this to me. Again. On my one night," Bella said angrily, her sniffles getting caught in her throat, "You have done this to me so many times and I have forgiven you. And all those other times were last minute things and I get it, maybe I should have given you a better warning but I still forgave you when you were late, or didn't show up at all. But tonight? We do this every year; you know how important this is to me," her voice died, catching the harshness of the wind on her face.

"I am so sorry, Bella, really, I am," Edward said sincerely, reaching out for her.

She pulled away.

"You say that a lot and I believe you every time."

"You should still believe me; I mean it when I say it—"

Bella cut him off. "Saying sorry doesn't fix things!"

Edward sighed and walked up the steps to his apartment. "Let talk inside. It's cold out here."

Bella hurried up the steps. "No, we're going to talk about it right here! Where were you?"

Edward rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing if the truth was going to make the situation any better.

She slammed her hands against his chest. "Where were you, Edward? What was so damn important! You were obviously out; you weren't in your apartment."

"It's complicated," he muttered.

Bella stepped back. "It's complicated?"

"Yes."

There was a pregnant pause, only until Bella dropped her gaze and bit into her bottom lip.

"You were out looking for another letter..."

"Bella—"

"Edward, you are in love with a fantasy."

He shook his head. "It's not like that."

"You've been chasing after nothing, when in reality you have someone who wants you right here!"

Her doe eyes were staring at him, holding his gaze so harshly it seemed as if it would hurt to break it. And then his lips were on hers and her back was slammed against his front door. Fumbling with the keys at the same time, Edward unlocked the door to his apartment and pushed them both inside.

His hands were everywhere at once; her shoulders, her collar bones, her hips, her thighs, peeling off her dress.

Clothing was torn off, leaving a trail behind as they inched their way towards the bedroom where Edward so delicately placed her on the bed. Bella's soft moans tickled his ear as her candy lips tasted so delicious against his own.

And then the lights faded, like they did in _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ when another Act ended.

* * *

The sun hadn't come up yet for it was still dark across the sky.

The two young souls laid in bed, one sleeping and one not.

Slipping on a pair of boxers, Edward looked down at Bella's body tangled in the sheets; her hair in disarray across her back, something it was never usually.

Edward slinked out of the room and didn't return until the sun came up and stretched across the sky.

* * *

In the morning, Bella put on a button down shirt she found on the floor and walked out into the kitchen. She found Edward heating up a coffee cup in the microwave; there was a bag of bagels on the counter.

"I got coffee earlier but it got cold," he said stiffly, returning to the microwave when it beeped.

He handed her the small cup and picked up a bagel, smothering it with butter.

"Thank you," Bella said.

Silence ran its course and the young girl felt awkward so she fumbled with her hands. She plucked a random bagel from the bag and chewed on it as it was.

This wasn't her scene. In other terms, Bella didn't stay the morning after she slept with a guy. She did her shameful walk as the other girls did after she scraped her belongings off the floor at 3 am in the morning and left.

But Edward wasn't a guy; he was her friend, her _best_ friend. Someone she loved. Someone she loved more than just a friend. Someone who didn't love her like she wanted him to.

So Bella did what she learned to do from her girlfriends back home, and she lied. She walked back to the bedroom, redressed in her black dress, gathered her belongings, went back to the kitchen and lied. She told Edward she had to work today and then left the apartment.

She left without a word from him.

* * *

Bella was not on the Met Monday morning.

Edward called to see if she was okay.

She said she was and that she got a ride from a friend.

Edward rode the Met alone on Tuesday as well.

Not Wednesday. Bella was there. Though her smile was forced.

* * *

"What is this?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what do you want it to be?"

"I don't know."

"You're still my best friend."

"You're still mine."

"You just don't want to sleep with me."

"I'm not saying it wasn't good, I just—"

"No, I get it, it's fine."

"So, friends?"

"Yeah, right."

Laughter erupted but it didn't reach either of their eyes. Brown eyes of actual sadness, green eyes of confusion.

* * *

It was another morning Edward got up from the bed, slipped on boxers and looked to Bella's body tangled in the sheets, her breasts and legs so openly on display. The skin he's touched, the places he's kissed.

He moved from the bed and it wasn't until sunrise that Bella got up herself.

She stayed a little longer that morning but then left as usual, although this time fully aware of the fact that she had shouted out "I love you" during a moment of an erotic climax.

* * *

It's by the time Christmas came around that Edward got his last and final note. He knew it was final by the way it was signed.

_Kate_, the mystery women whose lips imprinted the pages of his history book asked him to buy one final ticket to _The __Nutcracker_ on Christmas Eve, showing at the Metropolitan Opera House. In her letter, she told him she was going to make an appearance; she would be sitting in K109.

Edward dressed accordingly to the appropriate wear and left Bella sleeping soundly in his bed. His best friend, his lover, he wasn't quite sure; only that her lips spoke of words he wasn't ready for. Maybe he was waiting for something else.

Edward arrived timely to the show, anxiously being seated by an usher who was curious as to why a handsome young man was here alone. Edward's eyes danced along the seats, waiting and searching for a woman to take vacancy of seat K109.

But seat K109 stayed empty until the lights went down and Edward could not see any longer.

_The Nutcracker_ was just how he remembered it; lovely and completely breath taking. He sat and wafted in memories of his childhood, grasping at the fact that those were happy times gone missing. But certain anxiety couldn't get away from him only until the lights went back up and Edward searched for his mysterious girl again.

People were moving though. In the way and blocking his sight.

Hugging and kissing one another, all dressed in seasonal colors of red and green and silver and gold.

His head craned to see beyond but no luck came to him so he decided to wait.

And it was if hours went by when finally the crowd died down and he looked upon the row of K. Through the scattered people in a blur of their own motion, a lone woman dressed in silver stood idly in the distance. Her hands resting on her thighs, silver hair dressed in old jewels on the top of her head.

Edward stepped closer; eliminating the distance between them until she was but a foot away and Edward could truly see her.

She was beautiful and mysterious; just as she was depicted in her letters, but her face wore of age and Edward knew she was no woman of 20.

50 and aged, but thin and lovely, blue eyes stared back at Edward with an intensity he was almost uncomfortable sharing.

"Kate," Edward breathed.

"You found me." Her voice sparked with surprise.

The two were the only ones in the opera house by now, standing toe to toe. Edward fished out his last letter from her, holding in his hands uselessly.

"You kissed my history book."

"I did," she said, a loose curl hanging down by her cheek. Her crow's feet were not too prominent under her makeup, but her eyes read depths.

Edward had never been much of a dreamer, not a soul searcher, but in those last few months, he dreamt of a girl who wrote down her thoughts in poetry and he was meant to find them. He was not expecting Kate to be an older woman; he hadn't known what to expect, but maybe he was hoping for one of his only dreams to become reality.

"Why?" he asked, knowing of only one question that seemed sound at the time.

"I loved a boy once and I wanted him to notice me. So I kissed his book in hopes of him returning the same feelings I felt. He didn't though." Her voice grew of sadness as her eyes flickered to the note Edward held in his hands.

"But why me? Why answer my texts?"

Kate paused, playing with her hands at her middle. The action was so familiar.

"I was hoping that it was him, years later, trying to contact me."

Edward rubbed the back of his neck, finally understanding the truth to the whole game he had been playing.

"Why not ask if it was him at the very first text?" Edward inquired softly.

She shook her head, more delicate curls falling from her face. "I wanted to believe it was him finally wanting me after of years of not. I was a foolish woman for doing so; I am deeply sorry for stringing you along."

Edward looked up at her again.

"I'm not who you wanted to see, either?"

Edward silently shook his head.

Kate sighed deeply. "He was my best friend and I loved him. But he never loved me back. Not like I loved him. You are a lovely man; I hope you find what you are looking for, if it is not already in front of you."

With that, Kate touched his arm ever so gently, picked up her dressed and walked away from him.

Suddenly caught in realization, Edward smiled to himself and headed back to his apartment.

* * *

Still dressed in his suit, he crouched down to the one side of his bed.

Bella, still in deep slumber, had her fingers curled around the sheets on his bed. The moonlight shining in from the window, dancing along her naked body.

"Bella," Edward whispered to her, "My sweet girl."

Her eyes fluttered.

"Bella."

She looked at her best friend and let a smile stretch across her lips.

"Bella, wake up," he said so gently.

"But why?" Her tired voice was disguised by her sudden yawn. Her eyes chocolate eyes more aware, opened with delight upon seeing Edward's face.

"I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"I love you," he whispered.

Bella slowly lifted her head off her pillow, looking down at him crouched aside the bed. Combing back her untamed hair, she tilted her head in confusion.

"What?"

"I love you," Edward said again, more pronounced, "I think I loved you since the day I met you, it just took me a while."

Smiling, Bella reached for him, kissing him so lovingly on the lips. She pulled him onto the bed, where she began to shred his clothes and they sank into the night with the lights fading, ending yet another beautiful but well played out Act.

* * *

**And that's the end.**

**I hope you all liked it (: Thank you.**


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